


Kiss me when I'm asleep

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9898109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder makes a habit out of kissing Scully - when he's sure she's asleep.





	

The first time happens after Donnie Pfaster.

Scully tells Mulder to take her home, please, and without a word he leads her away from the scene, away from the horrors. In the car, he watches her carefully at every turn he makes. They arrive at the motel in silence and she knows this isn’t home, and she knows they won’t get to go home tonight, but she lets him take him inside his room.

“You can have the bed. I'll…” He never finishes his sentence; not that Scully is listening to him anyway. She curls on the bed, tries to make herself so small, so tiny that no one can ever find her here. She winces when the abrasion on her chin comes in contact with the oh so soft pillow. Her eyes close, but the tears find a way through, tainting the white pillowcase.

“Scully, I know you don’t want - how about you take a shower? Maybe I could have a doctor come here and-

“No. Not tonight, Mulder. I promise I’ll get checked out tomorrow. I promise. I’m fine.” She doesn’t lift her head, refuses to look at him; she is done with him pitying her. All she wants now, all she needs, is sleep.

“Shower?” His voice is closer now, but she can’t tell where he is; he is close, and she wants him to be close, as long as she doesn’t have to look directly at him. With her eyes closed, she can almost feel his arms around her still. His hands on her, just holding her to him, being there for her. But he wasn’t there before. Before. The water. In the bathtub.

“No shower.”

“All right.” His voice is a soft sound; so gentle that she is not sure she’s still awake. Silence fills the room and she listens to her own heartbeat, strong and certain; it’s everything she doesn’t feel right now. There’s another sound chiming in; Mulder. A soft rustling tells her that he’s trying to get comfortable somewhere around here. She is not going to ask him to join her in bed. Not this time. So she listens to his tiny noises creating a lullaby that rocks her gently into sleep.

The dream explodes in vivid colors, blinding her, gagging her.

“Breathe, Scully.”

The words reach her, somewhere, but she can’t get away. She’s running, she’s trying, but the hands are around her throat; they’re grabbing at her, closing in around her throat, choking her, and she can’t even scream.

“Just breathe.”

She takes a deep breath and the hands disappear. Her feet stop moving; no more running. Half-conscious, Scully realizes this is a dream. None of this is real. Not the hands around her throat, not the voice. Mulder, she thinks. Even in my dreams, he is right here by my side.

“That’s right, Scully. Just keep breathing.” The voice sounds so real that she almost wonders. Almost. She feels soft warm lips on her cheek, gently kissing her, and she breathes. She just breathes in and out. The lips descend again, on her lips this time, and now she knows this has to be a dream. It has to be.

“Just keep breathing. I’ll be here.”

When it happens again, Scully has already convinced herself that the first time was a dream. The days after the Donnie Pfaster case are hazy at best and the memory of him, of what happened or didn’t happen, in the motel room are pushed aside when Melissa is killed.

Scully wants to go home, just go home, and they won’t let her. Her apartment is still a crime scene. But she can’t face her mother, who pleads with her daughter to leave her alone, please Dana, and Mulder won’t let her go to a hotel. Alone. Without a word she sits in his car and when he gets in it, he stares at her. No words leave his mouth as his eyes plead with her loudly to please, please look at him. She doesn’t.

The car makes a clicking noise, sounds as tired as Scully feels. Any other day she might have told him to have it checked out. Not tonight. Tonight there is nothing to say. Mulder’s hand lands on the small of her back, some things refusing to ever be affected by tragedy, and leads her down the hall to his apartment. She slips through the door before him and settles herself on his couch. The leather, smelling of him, feels familiar and she closes her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

Mulder lingers between the rooms for a moment, decides to leave the lights off, and finally joins her on the couch.

“You should have let me go to a hotel,” Scully says and her voice sounds hollow, “There’s no space for two people here.”

“You take the couch,” Mulder gets up again, takes off his jacket, and sits at his desk, “I’m not tired.”

“Mulder, you’re still in recovery and-”

“No, Scully. I’m fine,” he almost spits the words out and she startles, “You take the couch, you sleep. I’ll be fine. I have a bedroom, you know.” She doesn’t know and in the dim light, she can’t tell if he’s lying. He probably is and maybe she should care. She just doesn’t.

Scully takes the neatly folded blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around her. She turns away from Mulder, facing the wall, but feels him all around her. He’s in the leather, in the blanket and he’s keeping her safe; despite her not wanting him to. Scully closes her eyes tentatively; what is she going to see there in the darkness of her own thoughts? But it’s just blackness, so she leaves them shut and waits for sleep to take her.

When they were little girls Melissa taught her to even out her breathing so it seemed like she was asleep when she wasn’t. Back then it came in handy when their parents checked on them late at night. They’d pretend to be asleep and as soon as the air was clear, they could go back to whispering secrets or reading. As they grew older, Melissa stopped doing it. Instead, she would stare their parents straight in the eye, explaining that she was old enough to stay up. Little Dana was never brave enough.

And she isn’t brave enough today either.

She evens out her breath, tears falling silently, remembering a sister she will never see again. Mulder’s chair squeaks and then nothing; afraid he might have woken her up again, he waits. Scully wills herself to keep breathing deeply. It works. She feels Mulder move, and then he’s there. Leaning over her. She can do this, she reminds herself. If he knows that she’s only pretending, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he tightens the blanket around her. He still hovers over her, as if trying to decide on something. Then he leans down, kisses her temple, her nose and finally his lips graze hers. There’s a faint memory; how can she remember the feel of his mouth when he’s never kissed her before? Just as quickly, he is gone again. In the distance a door clicks.

There’s no way she can pretend this is just a dream.

They never talk about it, of course. Both have signed this unwritten agreement that prevents them from mentioning any of this. Lingering hugs are shoved aside just like almost kisses; just a spur of the moment thing. Nothing to see here, no, this never happened.  

Mulder visits her in the hospital after she points a gun on him, thinking he was in cohorts with the Cancerman. It’s long after visiting hours, but to Mulder that’s no reason to stay away. Scully wakes almost, expecting a nurse, but her eyes immediately close again when she sees him. He stands next to her and gently brushes a strand of stray hair away. Scully knows she should say something, stop this. But the truth is she craves his kiss; craves his touch on her. The moment stretches on and on and on. Scully feels sleep tug at her heavily and finally it wins out, captures her. She dreams of Mulder kissing her softly. In the morning she can’t recall if he ever did, or if he just made sure she was safe.

Scully slips in and out of sleep without control, without any agenda. Her body fights the aggressive invader and it is getting weaker, the illness taking the upper hand. She doesn’t expect Mulder to be in her room in the middle of the night. Crying. He’s crying and her heart, what is left of it, is breaking for him. With him. Scully wants to take his hand in hers and tell him it will be all right. There is no strength left in her and she falls asleep to the sound of his quiet, lonely sobs. She knows he kisses her; she feels it in her soul, feels how it kindles her flame. Even if only for a short moment.

Mulder kisses her cheek one night when she falls asleep on his couch after her vacation to Maine. Alone. Not a vacation either. She’s exhausted, but she’s missed Mulder (she doesn’t tell him that) and she so she lets him order take out. He tells her about possessed dolls and how he can find books about this phenomenon if she’s interested. All she’s interested in right now is being here with him, close to him. His words follow her into her dream for a while before it all gets quiet.

“I missed you.” Dream or reality. A kiss on the cheek. One day, she knows, this will have to end. Not tonight, though, as sleep carries her away again.

Mulder kisses her neck when they’re stuck sharing a bed in Kroner, Kansas. They’re posing as a married couple in Arcadia, California and Mulder sneaks into her bedroom, kissing her knuckles; caressing them one by one with his lips. By the time Christmas comes around, she thinks they might be ready. She thinks this might be it. They almost kill each other, so maybe not. Not quite yet.

It happens in New York.

She should be dead. People keep telling her that she should not be alive and she nods, staring into the other direction. The implications too heavy to face here, now. Mulder flies out to visit her (another reminder how close she’s gotten, once again) and hardly ever leaves her bedside.

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” They’re sharing her jello, because Mulder looks like he hasn’t eaten (or slept) in days and Scully is beginning to get sick of it already.

“I can kick his ass myself, thank you.”

“Not right now you can’t. I’ll do it, Scully. Just say the word.”

He calls her mother for her, explains everything. When she wakes up he’s staring at her, his eyes heavy with worry, but also with love. She smiles back at him, silently thanking him for being there. For doing it all for her.

He makes his move the third night she’s there. The nurses are well acquainted with him now; they know they can tell him to leave, but he’ll be back as soon as they turn their backs on him. So they no longer try and just greet him, smile even. Mulder is, after all, quite charming if he wants to be. Scully, too, is used to him being there day and night. She tells him to get some sleep from time to time, just leave her alone for a while, but he is adamant about staying.

“You only get into trouble when I’m not around.”

It’s late when Scully feels tiredness wash over her. She yawns and Mulder looks up from the book he’s reading.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?”

“No, I don’t mind. Good night, Mulder.”

“Good night, Scully.”

For a while, he reads. Scully hears him turn pages every once in a while. She’s tired, but she just can’t sleep. She’s never been a good patient, and all she wants is to go home and sleep in her own bed. Her thoughts distract her for a moment. The book is closed softly and something about this feels different than all the other times. Mulder appears beside her, his body radiating warmth, and when he leans down she can smell his scent. So much Mulder. He kisses her eyelids softly and then brushes her lips. She almost responds; almost opens her mouth to him. But before she can react at all, he is leaving again, and this time it’s not enough.

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

She hears his sharp intake of breath. Scully sits up and bed and watches him, frozen to the spot at the end of her bed. His shoulders slump and he shoots her a lopsided grin that turns into a sad smile.

“You never let me take care of you when you’re awake.”

“You never asked.”

“Are you sure, Scully? All those times you threw your ‘I’m fine’ line at me. I know you don’t want me to see you as weak. Scully, I’ve never considered you weak. Not once. And I never will. You’re the strongest person I know. I just wish sometimes… that you’d let me be there for you. I never planned to kiss you like this. Wait, you knew about this?”

“I might have been awake once or twice.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mulder sits down on her bed carefully. She takes his hand in hers, feeling confident now.

“I didn’t want you to stop.” She admits, her eyes meeting his.

“So we could have been doing this for real?” His grin is back and now she’s wearing a matching one.

“There’s still time.”

“Scully, can I kiss you?”

“You never asked before.” She tells him, leaning forward slightly and taking the decision from him. She knows the feeling of his soft lips already; it’s nothing compared to the feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth, meeting hers for the first time.

If this is a dream, she doesn’t want to wake up ever again.


End file.
